#like yes there are some situations where a quick image is fine if the recipient doesn't actually have to DO anything with the numbers

[ariadne-mouse]

Work colleagues stop sending me screenshot images instead of the actual functional Excel tables challenge 2023

[luimagines]

Today was a bright and beautiful morning as all the trees outside your window have begun to fall.You force yourself to move from the covers of your bed and sit up straight,stretching your arms across and all around as you yawn. You start to make your way to your bathroom to get yourself ready for the day when suddenly a knock on your window takes your attention away from continuing on your path.

What was it? A bird?A branch?.....Link? No it sounded too much like a person’s hand knocking on the window,but who would be able to climb up here and what for?But Link had been gone for years since his last adventure with,what were they called, “the chain”?

He hadn’t sent you any letters or visits for years now and you began to wonder.No you believe that he was dead.that was the only other explanation there could have been when you heard that the great evil was slain and he still hadn’t come back.

Then you heard another knock on your window.

But just maybe….

A thought hits you and you begin rushing towards it with a smile on your face. 

It was Link! He finally came back! Your bare feet were hitting the floor with loud thumps as you ran as fast as you could reach your hand out ready to unlock the window door like he would disappear again forever if you didn’t open it in time.

“ After all these years he was finally back!” you peer outside only to see a small blue metal machine box with the triforce symbol glowing in a light blue color engraved at the top of it.

A box? Before you decided to pick it up,you stopped and took a quick look around to see if you could spot the culprit who left behind this package. After a few seconds of intense scanning you decide to finally look down at your package and lift it up for examination.Was this a gift from Link? Did he send this to let you know he was fine? On his way?Was he already here and- No,no,no,no,no! Not everything has to be about Link! This could be a gift from someone else! Or was this even a gift…? You turn to look around the area one last time before closing the window and going back inside.

You sat back down on your bed with the box in your hand which was no bigger than your palm and began touching all around it. What was this thing??A decoration?A tool? Maybe just a souvenir or trinket? Suddenly you accidentally press down on the symbole at the top as it begins to glow and the triforce symbol on your hand glows in sync with it too before you toss it out of your hand in shock. The box stops itself from falling just before it hits the ground and floats back up and begins to open itself turning and shifting like it was unlocking itself before a blue hologram screen is shown. At this point you have already fallen to the ground crawling backward to move behind your bed before seeing the image of a beautiful elegant  blond woman standing-floating?-before you.she had on alond white coat and wore a plain black dress under and wore a crown on her head that seemed to serve as a purpose to show her statues as a queen without it being too glamorous despite having what can only be described as a goddesses beautiful looks.There was also a unusual plastic like device or object that clipped on the left side of her coat that said

‘Head Chief researcher Dr.Zelda’

A second later the figure moved, took a breath,or what seemed to be one,then began to speak as words began writing themselves in front of her in tandem with her speaking but disappearing when the space was too full to keep the previous sentences with them.lucky the words were being said in a slow enough manner to were if anyone were to read it,even a slow reader,it would still be comprehensive.

“Greetings,do not be alarmed.This is a pre-recorded message sent to you by me to inform you of dire situation that has come to place,to also state I will not be able to hear or respond to you but will send a representative shorty to discuss the matter first with you after this message has been delieverd.To start I am the Queen Zelda of hyrule #18b-A12 timeline 2.I am also the the head chief and researcher of the Secure,Contain,Research and Protect Program also known as the SCRPP which main goal is to,as stated in the title, secure,contain,research and protect all dangerous,overpower and magical items and people or beings that could cause massive harm or destruction across our world. I am extending our hand out to the Zeldas of their worlds for aid as we have all of  the links,also known as “the chain” from all across the different Hyrules and timelines under our containment currently and need help figuring out a cure for them.There be a summarized report that will be shown to you soon after this message of the charges shown as well as incidents during their time here at the SCRPP and studied behaviors.You must make sure that you are alone or with trusted elite members in your circle when reading this.if you are not the Zelda,current wisdom triforce beror,current ruler of your kingdom or a level 6 personale reviewing this message,you will be hunted down and arrested giving B leve aministic dosage or be sentenced  for termination for illegally stealing,intercepting and accessing  governmental files without consent of the SCRPP and Royal approval of the Court of internal Investigations outside of the know judiciary.And due to the time and era difference of our worlds all the reports will be shown on paper organized in folders with photos and names of each link and their subject code number as well.

Would you like to be shown and have access to file #19835-the chain links? Touch on the “Yes” if you are in a secure location to receive the report click on the “No” and the message box will close in on itself until the recipient of the massage presses their hand on the symbol on the box to reopen it.You will be able to open and close the box and see the continent summary report inside  with every link,including my own, in the folders in order to better understand the situation as well as another subject who will for now be classified as subject zero for now.”

As you watch and listen to all this unfold,questions start to flood though your mind about everything that was going on.What happened to Link?Why was he locked up?Is this a hostage situation?How did these people know where to find me?Is this why he never came back?Is this a trap?What's going on????

Taking a deep breath,you decide to collect yourself and go and find yourself in a secure place to be.if this box had any answers to what was hap[pneding you needed to find out now.You didn’t even bother to get yourself dressed and ready but instead grabbed the box and ran to your study room and locked all the doors,covered every window and made sure everything in the room was cleared out  before setting the box down and taping on the “yes” as the projected blue light of the woman faded and the box closed in on itself.The box began to turn and twist with sound of metal gears turning as he became a much larger rectangular serving plate sized box.The top opened up revealing a large beige covering that had a lot of paper neatly stacked inside of it with the title in large bold letter that said “case file number  #19835-The corrupted Heros.You swallowed hard and began to read the first page and this is what it said:

Case file number #19835- The Corrupted Heros

  

To start off the chain were first discovered when they were arrested and charged with multiple kidnapping attempts,hostaging,multiple homicide murders,injuring/killing of innocent civilians,attacking and maiming some official knights and crown guards and damage of property as well as resisting arrest.Other charges were made as well but these were some of the highlighted main ones that were had in court during their trials before they were to be sentenced and put to death,but because of the intervention and pardon plea deal that was offered to instead imprison them by the link of our world also know as “Mulan” among the chain but will be referred to as subject 10,they were all instead placed in jail for life as well as receiving weekly therapy and prescribed medication for their physiological obsessive insanity. But having broken out of their prisons repeatedly and kidnapping the person in question,who for now will be referred to as “subject Zero” for privacy insurance, they were placed under the SCRPP containment buildings units until a better suited and proper prison was placed for them to serve their sentence.What caught the SCRPP’s eyes to have them permanently be contained in their prison unit research facility was for the fact that the links showed signs of abnormal magical essence surrounding around them when they were first administered to the SCRPP prison research unit and went through the mandatory full body scan check up that is done whenever a person,staff,anomalie or being is entered into one of our units,whether they be vacant or under occupied use of other anomalies, it is a mandatory procedure that must be done thanks to that of past events that have occurred before these check ups were installed. Every member of the chain,although they vary, have show a red aura circling or being admitted out of their bodys that was shown within the charts and scan results.Subject 8,also known and nicknamed as “Wind” has shown a grey aura that flowed with his red wich made the research team place him under a separate category with the rest of the chains,as we believe it may have to do with his age,but not enough evidence has been shown that can concretely prove it.It is believed that the substance could be a source or a symptom done by whatever it may have been that is caused them to have the obsessive and aggressive behaviors and symptoms for subject Zero.A short while after this discovery we decided to do a full check up on subject Zero,subject 10 and subject 11,and although we did find a large portion of magical essence similar to that from the rest of the “links”  we saw that the essence that surrounded subject zero was a glowing yellow magical force that seemed to take over the whole room that it incompaced in while with subject 11,who is better known and nicknamed as lucky, showed a red and grey aura that surrounded him but seemed to glow the least out of everyone in the room.Finally there was subject 10 who,out of everyone’s surprise showed no signs of any usual amounts of magic aura seeping out of them despite the fact that she had been traveling with the group and was also a “Link”.We decided to start conducting experimentations and research on the matters and to keep the links from attempting to escape they are to have long periods of time with subject Zero to prevent the loss of staff lives and to prevent public casualties due to their obsessive,protective and possessive nature for subject zero. 

You paused in your reading. Needing to take a minute to fully process the information you had been reading.

Subjects? Obsession?murders? Magic? It seemed every time you read more of the article the more questions you had.It made you brain hurt with how much you just wished someone would just properly explain it to you instead of just sending all these endless files of paper.But it was not like you wanted to just sit around waiting for whatever representative was going to come. 

You rub your hands over your eyes and sigh back on your chair, eyes closed.At least you know now that link was alive but with the way the letters were written,it seemed as if he wasn’t himself at the moment. 

Taking another breath you looked down at the letters before you. 

Well it's not like you had anything else planned for today.

And if you did,they just got canceled.

I AM NOT OKAY I MIGHT BE CRYING

HELP CHEESE CHEESE!!!!!!

WHY MY BOY HE'S BABY

NOOO NOT LIKE THIS I'M AFRAID I'M SCARED!!!!!!

MULAN!!!! LUCKY!!!!

FREE MY BOY HE DID NOTHING WRONG!!! I DIDN'T KNOW THIS IS WHAT YOU WERE PLANNING!!

I WAS GONNA TRY AND GIVE YOU A SPOTLIGHT TO READ AND RESPOND PROPERLY BUT I CAVED AND READ IT TODAY EVEN THOUGHT IT'S LATE AND I'M AFRAID FOR THEM!!!!!! WHAT DOES THIS MEAN!!!

CHEESE!!!

CHEESE I HAVE QUESTIONS!!!!!!

[blankdblank]

Ash Pt 8

Any means for a private lunch was dashed in a debacle of a means by Prince Estel to plea his way out of his usual music lessons Elrond was trying to enforce upon him. Trailed by the entrance of a confused messenger who arrived with a pile of notes from Erebor that didn’t seem to make any sense at all thanks to the smudged outer envelopes. That while you finished the first then second helping of the warm honey butter rolls there the King had taken notice of the usual seals he gave lists of the few known possible recipients from those who had written them. Off they darted to try and leave the two bonding Nobles alone for a moment of silence in which the King timidly glanced your way and flashed you a quick grin before his move to finish his lunch and catch up to your emptied plate to snack on a roll on the way back to the clock.

Five pieces was all you managed to move before a hiss left him in a shake of his hand to signal the warning bite he’d been given the day prior that meant it was time to stop. “I suppose we might want to find your Elk then before our clock gets a hunger for your blood and we have to lock it away every night so we won’t find you half eaten by morning.”

Throatily he chortled and set the piece in his left hand down in a scoot of his chair to stand and help you to your feet. “What a colorful image of a monarchy under attack.”

“It would explain why there are no clocks here. Natural enemies, have to draw a line somewhere.”

Smirking to himself he stepped back to allow you at his side for the stroll to the front doors, “We have clocks. They are reserved for our families and beloved Ones, time is precious.” In a sweep of his eyes over your face he asked, “Were there a great deal of clocks in Nunieffe?”

“Oh yes, couldn’t go twenty feet without running into a clock. We might have been the cheese capitol but everything had to be punctual. Schedules for everything. You’d think the boat racers would have some freedoms from it but there’s timed arrivals and if you don’t meet them you’re disqualified no excuses even if by a second. Been a few uproars on that rule including my dad. Got booted half a foot from the finish line half a second past the final marker. No one won that year nearly had an uprise on their hands.” With brows risen he looked over your face in your step through the front door he had opened for you to do so.

“Over a race? It must be quite a prestigious title to win that contest of sailsmanship.”

“Well the race is 14 months long.” That had his mouth drop open in shock, “Trip around the world have to collect tokens from each Noble along the way and gain stamps for your travel papers. Not much of a prize beyond bragging rights and a spot in the naval forces that moves higher each time you participate and rank higher than the time before.”

“Naval forces are prized then?”

“Higher ranked you are the less likely they send you out in a row boat in the middle of a siege. Best winner came in first three times with five participation ranks above tenth place out of hundreds. He retired as a general and never had to leave the dock last war in his lifetime. Our lands are the sacrificial lambs up for slaughter. We bred faster and no one really wanted our ranks to win but we put the top social tier out of the race every time by the second stop. They already enter the wars in leader positions anyways why do they deserve another foot up away from the bloody ground.” Your eyes scanned over his steely face in a means to not cling to you for how miserable the fate your old world had dealt you and your kin. “Sorry. I get a bit cynical, and heartless about the top tiers.”

“You are not heartless. They are the ones who should hang their heads in shame. I am beyond comforted that you are free from that pit of death and despair.”

“More a chasm than a pit,” you replied and a smirk ghosted across his lips.

“Chasm then. Let us think of better things and enjoy a long ride on a fine day in this sun painted forest.”

“I see what you did there,” you said and he chuckled in the first step towards the stables away from his closed apartment.

“Did you not grow around many trees?”

“There were trees. Just not a lot higher than your shoulder, thirty feet at the most. Until you got to the outer edge of town but no one goes into those woods,” he glanced your way and you said, “Haunted and full of holes.”

“Ah, well no danger of finding holes today.”

Again you glanced up at him in a move that drew his eyes to yours for a pleased grin that had you ask, “I was meaning to ask, your throne has antlers on it?”

“Yes,” he said a bit puzzled about what the exact question was.

“I mean they aren’t like feathers that just come off on their own or wool that can be sheered,”

“Elk and deer lose their antlers annually.”

“Really?” You asked and he nodded with a relieved chuckle at what you might have imagined of their means to extract the antlers from the stubborn creatures and somehow still they would be left alive afterwards.

“Yes, in the spring I will remind you and we can set up a picnic and watch the herds startle themselves when they shed them.”

“But they seem so, like bones, you wouldn’t think they’d just fall off.”

“Nor do they until their first shed and still each year you’ll see them sneeze or reach a certain way to a bush or tree trunk and the antler will come loose and hit their side on the way down. Tuo nearly leapt six feet last year after his startled sneeze triggered loss.” He chuckled again to your amused grin, “within the next month the new set begin to grow and the meantime allows them safer head sparring practice with their young ones in the first signs of their first tips.”

“Why did you pick an elk over a horse? Are they faster?”

“Tuo was a difficult birth. His mother was found injured and barely survived the night after I helped ease her struggles. I helped to secure a female to nurse him with her own daughter however due to his father who was head of the herd none of them could claim him outright without his approval so until he deliberated a good match I spent most of my days and nights in the stable with him.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

Lowly he chuckled and stated, “I do have to admit Celeborn had just left from his latest trip to show off his youngest set of twins and I was a bit jealous and missed those parental moments. Thousands of years have passed since my son left my palms and shoulders.” Curiously he stole a glance your way and asked the question now burning in his head, “What were your dreams for a family, prior to the betrayal of course? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Truly I haven’t,” softly you sighed and in his full gaze on you with head tilted slightly for a better angle on your puzzle of an expression when you looked away. “We have Seers we are taken to when we are able to conceive, they tell us how many children we will have. They read it on our palms.”

“What did yours say?”

“She said my palm read sunrise. No number, just sunrise, and since it is illogical of an answer, I don’t know. I looked it up in a book and I didn’t have that line,” his eyes sank to your hand palm up in front of you in a tap of a finger on the other hand to what he took as just a normal wrinkle on your palm with meaning of nothing else past that now having him question what his own palm might say. “But now I do,” you sighed again, “Which according to the book now says sunrise and blue.”

“That is odd. If you had to guess a preference, had you imagined a son or daughter?”

“Um,”

“I myself was a bit baffled for a preference. A daughter however might have proven a bit difficult as my mother most likely would never have let me have a chance to hold her, as she always wished for a younger sister to raise alongside me. Though she would have been no less loved even from a distance until I was allowed to hold her again.”

“Maybe one of each, three are the usual goal expected of women but the husbands normally choose how many children-,”

“I can guarantee that will not happen here. You have full power here, did your father encourage that belief that you would be prey to your husband’s demands and expectations?”

“Well, my parents, my mother did what she was expected to even against her hopes to have had me with her child sweetheart,” that had his eyes on yours in a sharp shift. “They weren’t in love, and the longer it went without a son that became clearer to me when we weren’t in the shop where they seemed to be able to play happy couple for the public.”

“I am so sorry you had to face that.”

“He seemed pleased at least when I was taken.”

“I cannot ever imagine that to be a parent to a heart like yours that moment could be a father’s single proud,” softly he huffed in irritation, “To barter you off I assure you that afterwards there was ample remorse on the loss of his only child hefty sum of silver or not. Several of our people have various moments of pride for your person. Including myself, I am very proud of my dazzling One.”

In a smirk up at him you teased, “I am about as dazzling as an Elk is stable crossing a lake of ice.”

That had him chuckle and shake his head and then catch your eye again, “Deflection will not serve your case, a few stumbles and slides does not negate majesty from and Elk. Tuo is head of the herd and has gotten his rear end stuck in ample situations while growing and learning our forest.”

Upon being in sight of the stables your eyes shifted to his hands that above the slit on his maroon outer robe that button by button it revealed more of his dark silver pants that his white tunic was tucked into the waistband in a careful move to not lose his maroon and deep silver wrap folded over his forearms. “It has buttons?” That had him grin in the reach out to shift the front flap on the side closest to you over his arm while his other hand continued until he undid the jeweled clasp at his collarbone. “Oh, it’s thicker than it looks so it hides the buttons.” You said then gave his arm mild pokes to test the fabric on his arm for thickness to not be groping at his chest, “I suppose it helps keep you warm.”

“It does. While the cold does not normally affect our kin layers are comfortable for myself, though the length can bother Tuo while we ride.”

Down the steps you strolled with fingertips brushing the leather paneled skirt over your black pants contrasting your brown knee high boots. Comfortably in your pale orange blouse secured by a black and orange vest at least you seemed to be a good choice for a ride. Tuo already was on his way from the line of trees to join you inside the Elk stables you hadn’t entered before. Past the open front entrance towards the large section on the end with a crown etched into the half door that was propped open that you stopped outside of to watch his easy move to the cupboard inside he opened. Off his arms the wrap dropped to his fingertips that in front of him he folded in half then quarters and then eighths to add to its usual home next joined by his outer robe that was hung on the hanger inside he took the armored dark green robe that like the other had a split in the part that hung nearly to the knee.

The stare from you however in your stroll closer to his button of the robe had his eyes fixed on you right to the stop a foot away that had him smirk at your tap on the end of the hilt of his sword strapped to his right hip that was a twin to the one on his left. “I didn’t even see your swords.” Up to his your eyes shifted and you asked, “Are they heavy?”

Around the right sword his left hand fixed and in a smooth motion he unsheathed the solid metal sword that along the etchings in the top of the blade near the hilt your fingertips tapped. “Not heavy at all once you have trained enough to build up the muscles in your arms and wrists.” He said and eased it closer to your hand that was joined by your other to timidly lift the blade with fingers and palm fixing around the hilt with the other. Both you shifted up and down for an awkward feel of the balance while he finished buttoning up his robe.

Back to him you offered the blade and over the back of your hand his eased to take hold of the grip in its release that spread a grin across his lips that spread in the smooth motion of your hand to tap his middle to feel the solid armored layer he added while his sword was sheathed with ease. “What is this made of?” you asked with one set of fingers in a second press that was joined by your other hand that widened his grin at the innocent contact that didn’t come close to making him sway but did test the give of the scale like material that didn’t budge at all. “Feels like metal?” You asked and then turned your head to the layered plates that laid from the tops of the shoulders down the tops of his arms over a layer of more scales.

“They are made of mithril plates layered in thick green wool. Mithril is the strongest and lightest metal in these lands.”

“You need armor and swords for this?” You asked with eyes on him again and he shook his head.

“No, merely a habit. I can leave them behind if this bothers you.”

You shook your head then gave his middle another grin spreading poke and said, “No, if you’re comfortable with them it’s fine.”

Your poke however had Tuo upon his entrance bop the King in the chest with his snout to join in on the fun that had the chuckling King shift on his feet to say, “Let us get you dressed Tuo,” with a glance at you he asked, “Would you like to learn?” With a nod he extended his hand you laid yours on top of to walk with him to the large compartments along the wall where he said, “Tuo prefers his saddle first,” the leather saddle he lifted with ease and carried over to the Elk that turned sideways and eased over the Elk’s back. Every piece was explained while he adjusted it then reached down to grab the opposite strap that he said in easing it to the proper notch, “Not too snug but you have to ensure it isn’t too loose or you will spin down off their back. Usually a finger space between the belly and strap will be comfortable but some steeds prefer a notch looser and will make it clear to loosen or tighten the strap.” The stirrups were adjusted down straight then he collected the reins and bridle that he eased over Tuo’s head and helped you to secure the buckles then dropped a hand to your upper back that was used to guide the way to the saddle.

“I don’t think I can lift my leg that high,” you said eyeing the stirrup that made him smirk and ease his left hand over the back of your wrist to reach for the knot on the saddle, “Just reach up, I’ll lift you.” Around your hips his hands settled and with a warning lifted you to where you could plant a foot in the stirrup. “Now, ease your right leg over,” his hands remaining fixed in place until you were halfway over the saddle and when you had settled in place he stepped away to gather the reins that he crossed in your hands his had given a mild cup to release the hold of them.

In a step back he said once at your side when you moved your foot that had slid from the stirrup in its drop again at your leg being shorter than his to rest in them. “How do I not be in the way?”

To himself he chuckled and he replied in an ease of his raised foot in the stirrup, “You are nowhere near in the way,” his hand fixed on the knot over your arm. And fluidly up he rose and used his long legs to his advantage to move around your back to settle on the extended rear seat of sorts on the saddle that had come of use when Legolas was younger. With legs situated around the sides of yours over your shoulder he peered and reached for the reins that you released then promptly tucked your hands back and he asked, “Are you comfortable with the height?”

“Yes, just, not going to look down too often,” you said and he smirked in a low murmured confirmation to the watching Elk that looked forward and began to walk to the entrance.

“Just a slow trot to begin with,” he hummed near to your ear after a careful glance at your braid that hung to the saddle he ensured the curls in it or the jeweled beads tucked throughout would get caught on his outer robe. Straight to the trees while you remained straight as possible to continue not being in the way, “You are not in the way, relax you will not fall. When we get deeper on the path I can show you how to steer if you would like.”

“I don’t know where we are going.”

Again he chuckled and he said, “I am right here,” he said to your glance at the speckled mare that halted with a glare then turned back to storm to her usual pouting tree to lie down underneath. “I will not let us get lost should you take control.”

The first turn was taken and a rounded pathway was laid out for the trotting Elk and up your eyes shifted to the endless trees, “Were the trees always this tall, you said you moved here from your old home, have they grown? I can’t imagine they grow very fast. And they all seem even, so who planted them or did it just rain acorns one day…”

Again he smirked at the curious ramble from you and answered each that you could think up between shared facts and gestures to various things along the way. Hours you rode and chuckles soon gave warning to guards above on where their King had reached along the pathway and after a passing inspection of the guard post he had warned you where Thranduil helped you down to let Tuo take a break at a small stream. With hold of your hand Thranduil smiled in a head tilt to the side, “One more surprise.”

Curiously you smiled and strolled with the King away from the amused guards who chatted once you were out of earshot of the newly bonded Ones that had been kept so far apart for so long. Around a series of large boulders you hurried to catch his stride and then caught signs of the shift from tree surrounded grassy pathway to an open clearing that cut off to a rocky ledge that just led into the sky. “A cliff?” You asked and looked up at him when you stopped a bit afraid of what he brought you here for.

Widely smiling at you he said, “There are nests below, unless you wish to head back?”

Tentatively a few feet from the edge you stopped and crouched down with him inching closer to your side with his hand still clutched in yours just at the edge his arm extended and you saw the large nesting grounds of large owls that the parents were offering their catches to their chicks. “Our Great Owls nest here, sacred creatures none here dare hunt. We do not approach them but occasionally we are welcome to peer down at their home while when they fly over ours they do the same.”

“Does your brooding keep them away as well?” you teased and he chuckled again and joined you in a pull backwards.

“No, just merely an issue of territory.” He said in helping you to your feet again for the turn back again after your sweeping glance out into the endless sky and forest around you. “Tuo should be ready for us.”

“So fast?” You asked and he grinned at you.

“Elk can run for days at a time from our herd if need be. However for our steady trot he will have ample energy to get us back.” The Elk in question was pleased to see you back again and came closer to have you lifted on his back again knowing that for the broad looping path back the King would allow you to take control of the reins if you felt comfortable and once Thranduil was behind you Tuo turned for the path and heard Thranduil offer. “Would you like a chance at the reins?”

“Um,” Already your heart was racing in the velvety hum he had given near to your ear and down your eyes dropped to the reins.

Outwards he eased his hands for the reins to be seen resting on his fingers with palms out, a motion that had yours ease closer. Brief and gentle fingertips eased against his palms to shift against the leather straps that you almost let go of until his hands melted around the back of yours to guide them into the proper hold. Kindly he guided you on needless tugs on the reins for the next several turns in the path that Tuo could travel in his sleep but welcomed the chance to take part in lessons. Each turn widened your smile and lured soft excited giggles in the first stages of control for a steed. Though he hummed post chuckle, “There is a jump ahead, we will have to speed up though.”

“We can both jump?” You asked in the slack of your hands that eased back that signaled his left arm to leave the reins in his right to lay it across your belly to press you into his chest in Tuo’s change in speed. Around his hand and arm yours gripped in a melt around your back to keep you steady in the race up to, the leap and landing and afterwards in the calmer pace until the body in his hold untensed. Even then he still kept a loose hold until a clearing on the right had you bravely reaching out to change course to see the beautiful flower filled hideaway where some colorful birds were gathering food for their nests.

From far above a whistle had Thranduil hummed in a guide of the reins saying, “Ah, nearly time to ready for the feast.”

“I hear tonight is the big sparkle night.”

That had him chuckle again, “Yes, I presume our Seamstresses had created a dazzling gown for you to shine in tonight.”

“They did quite a job in the beading. Must have taken all of them to get it done in time.”

“Well they had completed everyone else’s attires months in advance there were ample hands free. I can guess it will look perfect alongside the swan crown.”

“I thought since it is the big sparkle night I should wear the larger crown, unless-,”

“The larger will be welcomed and I cannot wait to see the final look tonight.”

“Can’t imagine you having a much flashier robe than I’ve seen you in, Dew Drop.”

“You might have organized part of my wardrobe however there are a few pieces that you have yet to see.” He replied playfully not pressing the term you had referred to him by to subtly express an approval of its use, however puzzling as to the source or reason why. “Tonight there is a performance from our choral troupe tonight followed by our fable performers that will certainly add to the splendor of the evening with more performances in each night beyond this one.”

.

Pink, sleeveless, backless and beaded strips in angled and arranged to fit the curves on the full chest covering gown that hugged you to the pool of fabric around your feet with a delicate woven set of chains draped down the back opening. Teardrop stones surrounded by arched rows of lasgalen stones in an elegant arch formed the crown you had been gifted that sat gracefully on top of your hair that was braided back with shimmering decorations.

Back to your seat again beside the shimmering robe donning King with his same wrap from earlier to help disguise the shimmer while in the shows, that once the food was through and the performances began to a noticed shiver in the move of the tables he eased from around his back to yours. Nice and warm to the dim of the glow in the hall you settled in the oversized wrap with a failed try to withhold your dopey grin to the gesture. All of this was so odd and now near to the end of this month in this new home of yours for the first time since you had been taken now you were beginning to feel safe. Mainly due to the actions and time with your One who every so often through the performance would steal glances your way to ensure that you were enjoying the show. Subtle actions that had his son and Lord Glorfindel on his other side unable to keep from openly grinning for how the private bonding sessions had been doing wonders for the duo they knew to be a courting pair soon enough.

From a few blushing quick grins in caught gazes when you would look back at his staring breaks to the fable being performed that upon a certain point required a loud flash and smoke that had his hand daringly drop from the arm of his chair over yours to ease under your hand in time for it to be a welcomed thing to clutch until the jolt of your heartbeat had slowed to its former steady rhythm. Polite, again the doubts had sprung up and much like the deep ache you hadn’t realized to be there in the time on Tuo’s back in the arms of the King the hand that refused to let go with thumb bravely smoothing up and down the back of yours only locked you in place more. You couldn’t kiss the King again, he was being so polite, no matter what Ones did grow to be eventually for Elves it was only him being polite. Publicly you were known to be scarred and damaged by the husband turned captor and he was simply preventing a show disturbing meltdown. And still you couldn’t force yourself to take your hand away. Even if it was just a daydream of more than just a silencing hand to hold you didn’t want to let go, and to be completely honest that terrified you more than smoke or a sudden flash ever could.

Desserts in small bite sizes on foot came in a round of wine on the way back to the ballrooms that led to more dances through which an Elleth carried to hang up the wrap Thranduil had said you could leave in your chair that among the others was taken away to make more room for couples to dance. Another break for air however found you contrasting your fellow Wizard Radagast who was dancing excitedly in a hushed hum to the tune with eyes upwards mid twirling step that in a giggle ended to a plop back onto the bench there you didn’t know you were that close to.

“If you are cold I will fetch you my wrap, unless you merely wished to stir envy in the stars for your glow.” Thranduil hummed on his way over with two wine glasses in hand, yours still smaller and with your favorite blackberry wine while he sampled the newest cherry and strawberry blend his people had been perfecting to be sampled this year.

From his hand you accepted the glass offered to you and before you could scoot over he had turned and taken up the spot just big enough for him to fit and be snug against your side and took a sip of his glass you mirrored with yours. Once the glass was lowered and your lip loosening sip was swallowed onto his shoulder your arm shifted to drape there and down his back with a plop of your chin on his shoulder that had his sip halt so he could lower his glass and catch your gaze curious of what you were up to. Onto his chest a finger extended from around the side of your glass tapped and tugged the corner of his mouth upwards to your statement of, “You know, I figured out where I’ve seen the color of your eyes before.”

Once his head was turned and he swallowed his mouthful of the wine now among the bottom of his list of favorites to sample on he would tolerate to encourage the brewers to continue tweaking it to face the bitterness it was chased by. “Oh?” he asked truly curious if you were referring to some dream that had warned you of the travel here and to him with no expectation of what you would actually say.

“You’ve seen dew drops at sunrise,” there was that term again, dew drop and now he had something of a reason why. It was his eyes you had complimented and from a being with such impossible eyes as yours that meant something that stunned him to silence. “That chilly blue that has a hint of a glimmer to them unlike any other blue. Dew Drop.”

From the doorway to the gardens Elrond’s voice split the silence by asking, “Now the two of you tucked alone out here can only spell a plot is afoot. Spill your secrets now or we will be unrelenting in our payback.” The grin on his face doubled in his wife’s lean into his side with a plate of snacks she had gathered for the pair of them he chose a piece from that was popped between his lips.

Thranduil however replied to the rest of your cheek to his shoulder to look at the couple joined by Lord Glorfindel and his deepened smirk at the position you had relaxed into that made Thranduil almost lean in right there and kiss you on the top of the head and stroke the wrist attached to the hand holding the glass still rested against his chest. The King’s response however heightened that amused response in the widening of your eyes. “You are mistaken, Elrond. No espionage here.”

Right through the haze of the wine those words hit the panic button and in a lift of your head. Behind the trio an Elf you had promised a dance to arrived and you said, “Ah, Ringwe, I owe you a dance.” Up you stood and in mock ease to the waiting partner you walked with a trade of head nods once you had taken another sip of your wine as the question circled on if the King knew or not. He said he hadn’t, well, not exactly, he hinted he didn’t know. And to be honest, espionage was not that common a term to use day to day. The glass was taken along the way and several dances later to your apartment you strolled beside the King who managed to catch a signal you were about to leave who cut you off in the hall. This time he was lost to chatter from nerves and again with a press of lips to your knuckles the night was ended when he got you safely across that threshold.

Pt 9

@devilishminx328, @fandomsstolemylife00​, @lilith15000

[ohmeohmayohmy]

With the Slightest Smile, Chapter 6

Taglist: @reedusteinrambles @juxt4p0siti0n @kurtnehhhh @singularpurplepansy @chlobo6

Notes: Tumblr was throwing a fit, so it’s taken a while to upload this bad boy. But good god, my heart is thawing out from that sweet, sweet Brian emotional turmoil. I love the man, and sometimes my heart aches for him. Maybe someday things will get better for him. I’d like to think so. Also, DAMN my boys are looking fine. 💕

Warnings: Implications of sexual nature (nothing in detail, no smut), a little bit of drinking, brief mention of body image issues, some F-bombs.

Words: 8.1k+

___________________________________

August 20, 1973

4:04am.

Again.

Only twenty four hours ago, you spent sweet time with Brian, together in the kitchen you shared, enjoying each other's sleepy company. Presently, Brian was alone, laying in bed, trying not to watch helplessly as the time ticked away on his bedside clock. Twenty four hours ago, it was as if you were all his, and he was all yours. No one outside of the confines of the flat existed. 

But life goes on.

You were still at work. 

And Brian had yet to fall asleep. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about what happened at the nightclub mere hours ago. What transpired between you and John. It was cycling through his mind on repeat: the hope in Deaky’s eyes, how enamored he looked through the haze of intoxication; your response, how you held your hand to his chest before telling him no. What Brian couldn’t seem to move past was how you said it. You made it clear that you had no intention of saying yes to John under the influence of alcohol, but that didn’t mean you would still refuse in another situation. He wanted so desperately to convince himself it was the man, not the moment, but all that would come to mind were images of you and John laughing, with you sharing a smile that Brian wanted for himself. It was all too familiar, and he didn’t think he could endure losing you to someone close again.

Years ago, he came up with the rule that neither of you would talk about romantic interests unless prompted. You agreed. He never asked, so you never told. Now, it was all Brian could do to not ask you how you felt about Deaky. He was afraid to know the answer, but god, he wanted to.

Though the window was cracked open and the fan was blowing, Brian felt that the air filling his room grew hotter and staler with each passing minute. He tried to get out from the blankets, to rid himself of any excessive insulation, but in doing so he only managed to get tangled up more deeply in the sheets. Kicking and straining, Brian’s right leg broke free, followed by his hips and torso, then he wriggled his left leg into the coolness of the bedroom. He flung his tee shirt from his clammy chest, and stripped his boxers, throwing them directly at the hamper across the way. None of it seemed to help.

No matter how free he was, Brian still suffocated in sorrow.

_______________

September 27

“Nurse?”

You had your back turned to the desk, facing the center of the nurses’ station, your eyes closed shut. Strangely, the hospital lighting was giving you a headache. It seldom had that effect on you. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that you hadn’t taken a day off in a week, that you were sleep deprived. It didn’t matter.

“Nurse Y/L/N.” The person addressing you sounded more assertive. With a deep breath, you spun around to see whomever it was. 

Doctor Tead.

“Hello, sir,” you spoke in a chipper tone, hiding your weariness. “Can I do something for you?”

“Perhaps. Nurse Roberts said your shift ended twenty minutes ago, but discovered you sitting here. Can you explain that?”

“Oh, well I—”

“We are not in the business of paying overtime for those who just sit taking a doze, do you understand?”

You nodded slowly.

“I can’t hear you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Doctor Tead relished in the moment. “Good girl,” he cooed in condescension, patting your hand, and began strutting off.

You watched the doctor disappear behind a patient’s door, fuming at his gross, patronizing comments. He wasn’t even the head of medicine; he was not your boss and had no real power over the nursing staff. Doctor Tead was the only person in the hospital that you harbored a sincere loathing for. He was a middle aged man who would hit on every new young nurse, and if one were to turn him down, he would make it his personal business to ruin her day. Needless to say, there were many recipients of Tead’s hectoring.

You grumbled as you slid from the seat, smoothed out your uniform, and grabbed your purse. Nurse Roberts, the head nurse, approached you after seeing that you were up. 

“Take a couple of days off, honey.” 

She was a stern, intimidating woman, but she cared for her nurses with intense compassion. You smiled at her before she could return to her other tasks. “I will see you on Sunday.” With a wave of the hand, she was gone.

You exited through the ward’s doors and began your descent downstairs. The main lobby of the hospital was fairly empty, there was only a visiting family and a few new admittances waiting to be brought up. A nurse standing by the front desk said goodbye before you walked outside. You exchanged some quick pleasantries, then continued on your way. Coming upon the parking lot, your attention was caught by someone walking toward you. He grinned at you. It was one of the younger doctors, Arthur Carlisle.

“Hello, Y/L/N,” he stopped to greet you. “Leaving so soon? Just when I arrive?” He teased you, as he often did, but you weren’t in the mood.

“Shift’s up.” You felt bad for being curt, but getting away from there was your current priority. “Have to get home.” When you tried to sidestep past him, he stuck an arm out.

“Are you alright?”

“I am tired.” You pushed his arm down and out of your way. “Have a nice evening, Doctor Carlisle.” You started to walk again, at a faster pace than before.

“Wait, Y/N,” the doctor called after you. You tensed at the sound of your first name being used. Only other nurses would address you as such. Never doctors. You didn’t take another step, but you didn’t look back at him either. Taking that as an invitation, Carlisle came up to stand next to you. “I’ll give him hell for you,” he said, referring to Tead. You gave him a tiny smirk, then carried on to the nearby stop for the Tube. “And it’s Arthur to you!”

* * *

Rides home were the few times where you could sit back and immerse yourself in your headspace without interference. People wouldn’t bother you in your nurse’s uniform if you appeared to be sleeping–they wouldn’t dare disturb you.

You leaned against the back of your seat, resting your head on the window to your left. You placed your legs up beside you, since your row was otherwise vacant. The rattle of the train was soothing, giving enough noise to make you feel not as alone as you did, but not enough to distract or interrupt your thoughts.

You hadn’t spent time with the band over the course of the last month, only barely seeing Brian when your schedules allowed for it. Roger stopped by once or twice to get things from Brian while you were home, but that was the extent of interaction. You wanted to distance yourself, give any drama that was bubbling up a chance to simmer down. What John had said on his birthday made you question how much time and attention you were giving to the group, and the implications behind it all. You didn’t mean to give anyone the wrong idea. You didn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea. So, you decided it best to stop hanging around the studio for a while. Brian concurred a little too hastily.

Stella kept you company on most of the nights when near-isolation became too much, and Brian was busy. Sometimes her girlfriend, Odette, would join in the festivities of the evening, bringing in pastries from the bakery she ran, but mostly Stella would come alone and let you rant as much as necessary. You found it easier to get riled up on certain days, especially those on which you had interactions with Doctor Tead. More often than not, however, you would sip on the champagne Stella brought with her and speak tipsy, teary musings about love and life. She found the spectacle very amusing, being the sober onlooker.

The screech of brakes echoed through the traincar, taking you out of your head. When you came out onto the street, you noticed the sky was still speckled with rosy-hued streaks and creamy clouds. The trees lining the streets framed the sight like a painting, and you felt like a piece of the art just by witnessing it. You slowly made your way home, passing several people. Some you recognized and others you didn’t, but you flashed a tired smile at anyone who came your way. With work behind you, you wanted to move forward in the day with happiness instead of resentment. The closer you got to your building, the bigger your smile became. Noting that Brian’s car was parked in its usual place, you quickened your gait. As you came up the indoor stairwell, you fished through your purse for keys.

I really do need to clear this thing out.

Walking through the hallway, you smelled something cooking. Making it to your door, you located the source of the scent and heard music playing. The light streaming through the gap between the door and the floor was faint. You hesitantly turned the key in the lock, hoping you weren’t about to interrupt anything. Pushing the door open enough to squeeze through, you glanced around the living room.

No one was there, but there were lit candles twinkling on every surface you could see. You didn’t think you and Brian even possessed that many candles between the two of you.

You tiptoed to the kitchen, trying to remain as inaudible as possible. The countertops were absolutely spotless, and there were two unused wine glasses set out next to a fresh platter of butternut squash ravioli and a bowl of simple tossed salad. You took in a whiff of the food, making your mouth water. It was one of your favorite dishes, and the only thing you had eaten since your shift started at 5 o’clock that morning was an apple. Shaking your head to rid yourself of the temptation, you left the kitchen to see if anyone was in the flat. You knew Brian’s car was downstairs, but you couldn’t know for certain that he was alone.

Inching down to Brian’s bedroom, you could make out a gentle whimper from behind his door. It was quiet, but as you got nearer to it, the more distinct it became. You grew worried, beginning to take larger strides. Then the soft whimpering was accompanied by some panting. It struck you. You didn’t want to barge in on him if he was with a girl, so you froze just short of the doorway with a hand in the air prepared to knock, stopped out of not wanting to intrude on Brian’s privacy. You felt stuck to the floor, unable to move your feet. 

To your horror, the door suddenly flew open, and you stood face to face with a sweaty Brian. Upon seeing you, his eyes widened and his expression was mortified. His face was red, possibly from embarrassment, but that was probably not the sole factor. He cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry, Brian,” you spoke first, and started babbling, “I didn’t know you had company. I would’ve made myself scarce or—”

“Oh, no no no no,” he shook his hands in front of his body with great fervor. “I’m, uh, I’m alone.”

You furrowed your brow, confused by the romantic atmosphere. The candles. The wine. The fancy food.

Wow.

You didn’t know what to say. 

Say something!

“You really go all out when romancing yourself, huh?”

Anything would have been better than that! Silence is better than that!

You clapped a hand over your mouth, ashamed. You couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact with your best friend. He towered over you, but somehow, he stood small.

“Sorry,” you whispered from behind your hand. Brian chuckled awkwardly.

“It’s alright, Y/N.”

You looked up at him, and could see his eyes screaming, but decidedly didn’t say anything about it out of gratitude for his understanding. Due to the sheer discomfort, you started laughing involuntarily, with your hand still placed over your mouth. Brian reached out a hand to put it on your shoulder, to calm you, but decided that wouldn’t be best.

You straightened up, wiping a tear of laughter from your eye. “Did you wait for me to have dinner?” He nodded, his gaze intense but sweet. You weren’t paying enough attention to see that.

“I wasn’t sure when you’d be home, exactly,” Brian played with his hair. “It should still be warm. At least, I hope so.”

“Mind if I clean myself up first?” You bit your lip, gesturing to your uniform.

“I was about to ask you the same,” he said, lighthearted. You beamed at his delicate face.

“After you,” you motioned to the bathroom door. Brian gave you a funny look, but you weren’t thinking about your words. He dipped his head and ducked into the room. 

You turned to grab clean clothes from your bedroom and kick the shoes off your aching feet. Brian came out after a couple minutes.

“All yours,” he peered into your room with a smile painfully plastered across his cheeks. You gathered up your things and went to turn the water on. A scalding hot shower was all you needed to wash the day away.

* * *

Brian felt foolish as he waited for you to finish your shower. You didn’t seem to understand what he was putting out for you, running around making the flat more presentable. Or the energy he spent trying to figure out how to make ravioli from scratch, and the time it took to ask for help from one of your neighbors when he broke down over his cooking failure. Even getting hold of and lighting all the candles was a larger undertaking than he anticipated. If you couldn’t see what he was trying to tell you, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to bring it up.

You finally opened the bathroom door, steam rolling out through the hall like a thick fog. Stepping into the living room, you radiated warmth. Brian watched you approach him in your purple pajama set, hair still wet but not dripping. The flickering of the candles reflected in the satiny fabric covering your body. Brian had to force his eyes to keep them from dancing all over your figure. He gulped, hoping you wouldn’t notice.

“Should I get down some plates for us?” You started for the cupboard.

“No,” Brian reached out a hand to touch you. “You don’t need to lift a finger, go take a seat. ’Ve got it.” He smiled genuinely, urging you to relax. You appreciated the sentiment, so you went to throw yourself on the sofa.

A few moments later, Brian set down a wine glass in front of you and one in front of the worn “study chair”, where he would sit. He popped open a new bottle of moscato and poured a generous amount into each of your cups. Placing the bottle on the far end of the coffee table, he spun around and marched back into the kitchen. You heard the clanging of some dishes, setting you on edge, but when Brian reemerged with two plates of ravioli and salad, you lazed back into the softness of the couch. He settled into his customary position.

“Cheers,” he held out his glass.

“Cheers.” You smiled into your drink as you took a sip.

Brian had some trouble getting a ravioli to latch onto the prongs of his fork. It was enough to entertain you, until he gave up and started on his salad. You were not met with the same difficulty, and smugly scooped a piece of the entree into your mouth, making sure Brian was watching. He stuck out his tongue, then with a stroke of luck, managed to get one to stay long enough for him to eat. 

Of course, it was all a show for you. He just wanted to make you happy. He had spoken to Stella earlier when she called for you, and she let it slip that you were having a hard time lately, between your problems at work and the sudden separation from her other friends, the boys.

“So, what’s all of this, then?” You glanced around at the candles and the cleanliness.

In that moment, Brian decided to put off any big revelations for another time. You were exhausted and needed some time to enjoy yourself, without clouds of worry. He looked down and grinned softly.

“Wanted to celebrate you,” Brian’s voice matched his expression.

You didn’t understand what he meant. You never did.

He perked up. “I mean, someone ought to. You’re one of our country’s finest healers!” His playful exclamation hit you with a wave of affection. You could tell he was trying to cheer you up, and you could feel it working.

“Well, I don’t know about that—”

“I do.”

The conversation subsided as you both took a moment to eat the food before you.

“This is delicious,” you said in between bites. “Did you get it from Sicilian Cafe?”

Brian shook his head, mouth still full of salad. “No,” he swallowed, “I actually made it from scratch.”

You were awed. “Really?” He nodded, feeling slightly guilty for not including the part where the culinary student, who lived on the floor below, helped only after having him cry to her for several minutes, but he didn’t find it to be a necessary detail. He liked your amazement, it made him feel good.

“You’re quite impressive, Mister May.”

Brian took a swig from his wine, finishing off the contents of his glass. Noticing, you picked up the bottle and handed it to him. He thanked you.

“Would you mind topping me off too? ’S been a long week.” Brian complied.

In the middle of taking a drink, something occurred to him. “Oh!” He spilled some wine on the floor. You jumped up to grab a rag to clean it up. Brian took it from you and dabbed at the spillage.

“Sorry, Y/N.”

“Don’t be. I’m just amazed you’re actually cleaning something up,” you teased. “Anyway, what were you thinking about that caused such a frenzy?”

“Well,” he started, draping the rag over the arm of his chair. “The boys and I have been working with these great guys, y’know, Mott the Hoople?” You nodded, vaguely remembering talking to Freddie about them. “And they’ve asked us to tour with them!” Your jaw dropped.

“They what? When?!”

“It was made official a couple days ago, and we’re starting in Leeds in November.”

You got up from your seat and wrapped your arms around Brian. He pulled you onto his lap so he could hold you tighter. You stroked his hair.

“Oh, Bri, I am so proud of you.” As you whispered into his ear, you could feel some tears welling up in your eyes. You pulled back for a second, to look at him. “See? I told you, you were meant to do great things.” Brian gripped onto one of your wrists and brought your hand closer to him. Before he could stop himself, he laid a tender kiss on top of your thumb. Startled, you abruptly pulled your hand away, not expecting the action. He looked upset, or guilty, and you couldn’t decide which.

Maybe he’s getting caught up in the excitement, you thought, writing it off as an intimate gesture shared between good friends in an intimate moment. You got up from where you sat, but shot Brian a reassuring smile, and began to pick up the empty plates. He sprung out of the chair.

“Oh, you don’t have to do—” he cut himself off, “I made dessert, too.”

You put the dishes back down on the table, unsure what to do.

A pause. You hesitated for a bit while debating the notion, but gave into your cravings. “What did you make?”

Brian smiled devilishly. “Red velvet.” He knew you loved the cream cheese frosting, and he was proud that he could actually make it by himself.

You sucked your bottom lip in between your teeth. “You’re too good to me, Brian May. God, what did I do to deserve you?” Brian blushed and turned to go into the kitchen. 

Once you were alone, you finally recognized that music was still playing on Brian’s old record player. It was a collection of Ella Fitzgerald standards, one of your favorite albums. Your father gifted it to you for your thirteenth birthday. Wishing you had paid more attention, you could tell you missed most of the tracks. The jazz swelling through the air had a physical effect on you, you found new energy to sway and sing along.

In the kitchen, Brian brought out a lopsided cake covered in lumpy frosting. The flowers that were originally envisioned appeared to be pink globs of disappointment. He frowned, thinking it was glorious before, but now, he only felt embarrassment at the idea of presenting it to you. With a sad sigh and a small shrug, he took out a knife and cut two slices. From where he stood, Brian could hear your voice softly carrying the tune of “Dream a Little Dream of Me” and the faint pattering of your feet dancing across the creaky wooden planks. The thought of you joyfully moving to the rhythm in your skimpy sleep shorts, and your damp hair twisted up in a messy ‘do was enough to jolt him from his pitiful mood.

When he came out with the small dessert plates in hand, Brian was overcome at the sight of you. You had your eyes closed, your hips swaying to and fro, your feet occasionally making steps from one side to the other. He leaned against the wall closest to him and began to sing along with you. You noticed the shift in sound and glanced at Brian.

He started to sing Louis Armstrong’s harmony, so you joined as Ella came in. You walked up to him to take the slices of cake and put them on the coffee table. As you did, Brian came closer and you turned to take his hand in yours. He laughed a little as you grooved more playfully, smiling at your touch. You let him go to show off some disco moves in slow motion, fitting them to the tempo of the song. Brian tried to mirror your actions, but to no avail. His own movements were clumsy and looked very unnatural for him, so you reached out to him again to take him into your arms. Brian was more comfortable that way. Since it was the last song on the record, you let it play through to a full stop. 

You released your friend from your grasp to adjust your top. Brian shyly moved to his chair to await your company before touching his dessert. You lounged on the sofa, dangling your clean feet over the arm nearest to him. He offered you the plate with your piece of cake on it, which you happily accepted. Grabbing your fork, you shoveled a portion into your mouth without studying the decorations. Brian felt a little relieved that you weren’t interested in observing the slice.

“This is delicious,” you said with half a bite still in the process of being consumed. Brian usually despised loud chewing noises, but he overlooked them, enjoying your delight.

“I do what I can.”

You were so grateful for this random little “celebration” he put on for you. You didn’t even question the candlelit meal for a second.

“So, how were the boys? Just as thrilled as you?”

Brian chuckled. “Roger and Fred were practically bouncing off the walls.” He intentionally didn’t mention John.

“Do you know the first date yet? I could try to request the day off.” You scrambled for another bite.

“I am not quite sure. I think it’s the fifth or sixth.”

“Well, I could come with you to the studio tomorrow to confirm. ’Ve been given a break until Sunday.”

Brian shifted his position. “We’re actually not in the studio tomorrow.”

You were disappointed, but tried to hide it. Brian could tell. He cleared his throat.

“But we are going to do some shopping, if you’d be interested.”

That perked you right up again.

“Yeah? All of you?”

“As if Freddie would let us pick out our own performance wear,” Brian scoffed. You nodded in agreement. “He says we’ve got to be more ‘glam’.”

You blew out, raising your eyebrows, and nodded again with more subtlety. “I wouldn’t say you or John have the flashiest of wardrobes.” Brian narrowed his eyes with indignation. “Now Roger…” You shrugged, indicating that you considered his fashion to be more adventurous. “But I think Freddie could only be described as ‘extravagant’, ‘glam’ is too mundane.”

Brian loosened up at the notion. “I think he would prefer that, too.”

You finished your dessert and stood up to clear the table. Brian got up to help you, taking the large dinner plates while you grabbed the wine glasses and dessert dishes. You directed him to put everything on the countertop, and turned on the water for it to warm.

“Stella could come too, if you’d like,” he tried to steer the conversation back to the outing.

You snorted, not looking up from the plate you were washing. “You know how she feels about Roger.”

“But she loves judging fashion.”

“As much as she despises him?”

“But she could judge his fashion.” Brian had a gleam in his eye, and it didn’t stem from the excitement that the promise of dish drying provided.

You stopped what you were doing to face him. “I think she’ll pass.” Brian threw his hands up to show defeat, waving the white dish rag in surrender. You returned to your task. 

The sound of the faucet was the only noise for a few moments.

“How was work today, Y/N?” He changed the subject, knowing only what Stella had told him over the phone about the past week. You groaned.

“Hellish.”

“Anything out of the ordinary?”

“Not really. Doctor Tead was a total rotter, as usual.” You thought about it some more. “Doctor Carlisle called me by my name.”

Brian was perplexed by the oddity of the interaction, until he remembered the complete division between doctors and nurses. But he hadn’t heard this name before. “Who’s that?”

“He’s one of the younger members of the medical staff. Strange. Great physician.” You paused. “The children adore him. He even lets them call him Arty.”

“Was he there when Tead was around?”

“No, he’d only just arrived as I was leaving. We have wonky timing like that. One of us is always going out as the other is coming in.”

“Does he usually call you that?”

You shook your head. “First time. He even tried to get me to call him Arthur.”

“Maybe he wants to recruit you to join him at the Round Table.”

You threw the sponge into its basket after finishing your cleaning duties. “I think I’d make a great Sir Lancelot.” You puffed out your chest.

“Lady Guinevere,” Brian considered.

“Because I’m a girl?”

“I was thinking I would be Lady Guinevere. You’re the handsome knight who steals me away.”

“Ooh, I don’t know,” you tutted. “I wouldn’t want to get in the way of anything between you and Doctor Carlisle.” Brian looked unamused, but he didn’t really mind. He secretly loved the silly banter.

“We better blow all the candles out before we both forget and go to bed.” You shifted the topic of conversation again.

Brian’s face grew red at the mention of it. He wanted to forget where he had planned the evening to go. Before you could even make a step in the direction of the living room, Brian darted out of the kitchen. It was the fastest you’d seen him move in a while. You followed shortly behind, but most of the flames had been put out by the time you joined him.

“Brian?” You piped up. He looked up at you. “Why so many candles?”

So close. He was so close to avoiding the subject. Thankfully, he could think well on his feet.

“Just thought you might appreciate some softer lighting after a long day in the hospital.”

“How did you know?”

“Lucky guess?”

You accepted his answer, blowing on the last of the flaming wicks, and took a seat.

“I think I should go to bed,” Brian began rushing off to his bedroom.

“It’s barely even dark outside.”

He stopped. “Today’s been longer than you could imagine.”

You were unimpressed. “Is that a challenge?” You folded your arms over your chest.

“I’m simply saying I don’t have your motivation—”

“You were able to be at home all day, lounging like some lizard on a hot rock.” Brian laughed at your odd simile. You cracked a smile too. “Please? We hardly get to just sit and enjoy time without having to be anywhere, anymore.”

“If you insist, love.” He moved to return to his designated chair, but before he could sit down, you patted down on the cushion next to you. He acted nonchalant, taking his time before joining you.

“So, when are we going out on the town tomorrow?” You tossed your legs over Brian’s lap, and leaned back to lay on one of the throw pillows you had picked out years before.

“I know Fred will want to be up and at ’em early, but the rest of us probably aren’t planning to get out of bed until at least eleven.”

You were content with that. “I can do eleven.”

“Fortunately for us, he can’t drive. So he can’t just show up unannounced.”

“Unless he gets Roger to do his bidding,” you said dryly. You couldn’t forget the time Freddie had walked in on your floury wrestling match not long ago.

“I don’t think anyone could get Rog rallied and presentable before ten,” Brian joked, the thought going over his head.

“Then let’s hope for that. Nothing before ten.”

_______________

September 28

The morning came all too quickly. However, you and Brian were ready to go before you even got a call from the others, telling you to hurry yourselves. Out of the lot of them, Brian was notorious for sleeping in. However, Freddie was the one who was consistently arriving late. Unless he was the one organizing the outing.

You were sitting on the couch, flipping through a magazine while waiting for Brian to locate his trainers.

“Did you look under the mound of laundry?” You shouted out to him. You could hear a grunt of umbrage, causing you to wrinkle your nose in response. “Well?”

Brian appeared through the entry, looking triumphant with a black pair of dirty Converse hanging by their laces from his fingers.

“And where were they?” You returned your focus on the images in front of you. 

Brian sighed. “Under the laundry,” he mumbled. He kneeled to lace up the shoes.

“Interesting.” You tossed the magazine onto the coffee table and set your feet on the ground. He stood at the same time. “Ready, m’lady?” You offered the crook of your arm to Brian. He scrunched his face in confusion. “Guinevere,” you elaborated. His mouth formed an O with remembrance, bobbing his head lazily.

“Did you call by Roger’s place, letting ’im know we’re on our way?”

“Yes, a couple minutes ago. Fred thought you should forget about those old things,” you sneered as you pointed to Brian’s feet, “but I told him to forget about that awful peacock hat of his, and it shut him up nicely.”

“Fred was there?”

“And John was too. I figure they spent the night.”

Brian brought his shoulders up slightly. “Convenient for us, that means we only have to make one stop.” He grabbed the keys from the counter. “Suppose we better go.”

You beat him to the door and swung it open, moving into the hall. Brian slammed it behind him, dropping his keys simultaneously. You both bent down to grab them, and again, you beat him to it. But his hand engulfed yours anyway, not fully thinking nor looking. You breathed softly, bringing your sights up to his eyes.

Hazel.

You smiled.

I always forget.

He returned the smile, his own breath hitching in his throat.

The stillness was interrupted by someone stomping up the stairs. It was the neighbor whose flat was across from yours. You never could recall his name. He looked down at the pair of you and blew air through his nose, humor crinkling around his eyes.

“How many people does it take to grab keys off the floor?”

“Two, apparently,” you sassed, still locked in your crouching position with Brian. You didn’t look at him, but you could feel that his gaze never left your face.

The humor faded and your neighbor scowled as he pushed his own door open, going inside and closing it without another look. With a sigh of satisfaction, you got up from the ground, bringing Brian with you.

“Lonely sot,” you murmured to Brian, who tossed his head back with silent laughter.

* * *

“Look who’s here,” Freddie chirped, widening the door to Roger’s flat for you and Brian to enter through. Brian spoke a quiet greeting, but Fred ignored him and wrapped himself around you. He pressed a kiss on your forehead. “How are you, darling?”

You sunk further into his grasp. “I’m alright, Fred. Missed you.”

He pulled out of the embrace to grab your shoulders, looking you square in the eye. “You can’t leave us alone again for that long, Y/N. We nearly strangled each other every chance we got.”

“Yeah, a medical professional would be helpful if one of us actually went through with it,” Roger chimed in, moving Freddie out of the way to get to you. He winked at you before pulling you into his arms. “Glad to see you.”

You giggled. “You’re all talking like I dropped off the face of the planet, or something. I was busy with work, you know that.” You pressed your palm into one of Roger’s shoulders, playing. You hadn’t said anything to him or Freddie about what they missed on John’s birthday, and highly doubted Brian or Deaky himself would bring it up. Work was your excuse, and they didn’t question it.

You swiveled your head around to find John standing alone, halfway across the room. He gave a small wave before slowly making his way over to the rest of you. “Hi, Y/N.” John looked down at his feet. You noticed he wasn’t wearing any shoes. 

Is he not coming?

With timidity, Deaky pecked your cheek quickly, but not quick enough for Brian to miss it. 

He clenched his jaw.

“You boys ready to go?” You tore your focus from John to address the others.

“Yeah.”

“I’ve been ready to give Brian a new wardrobe since the day I met him.”

Brian looked exasperated by Freddie’s remark, but you and Roger couldn’t hold back your chuckles.

“No Mary?” You asked Fred.

“She won’t be joining us. Has work to do, or some other nonsense,” he joked. You smirked.

In the brief moments of your reunion with Roger, John, and Freddie, you already felt more emotionally fulfilled. Brian saw the content on your face.

You turned back to John. “Where are your shoes?” He looked dumbfounded. You looked at Brian. “Maybe they’re under your dirty clothes, too.” He rolled his eyes, but all in good fun.

Freddie gasped dramatically. “Is it really that bad?” You gave an overexaggerated nod.

“It is not!”

“Ah, shut up, Bri.” Roger batted a hand at the taller man.

“You’ve got room to talk,” Brian said sarcastically, motioning his arms to the entirety of Roger’s flat. “At least I’m just messy and not dirty.”

“Is there even a fucking difference?”

“There is a very important distinction!”

“And what exactly would that be?”

“One involves messes and the other involves dirt!”

You and Freddie exchanged looks, amused by the childish tiff. He glanced at the clock on the table and cleared his throat.

“Dears?” Freddie spoke calmly and politely. Brian and Roger stepped back from each other and looked at him. “We should be going.” You were dazzled by his sunny behavior. The other two grumbled as they started for the door. Freddie put an arm around both of their shoulders, saying things you didn’t care to listen to.

You walked closer to John. 

“Hi,” you whispered kindly.

“Hello.” He spoke with a far away look in his eyes.

“How’re you?”

Deaky looked back down to his feet. You were discouraged, seeing him appear uncomfortable even after a month of evasion.

“I’m sorry.” He wouldn’t look at you.

Your heart broke a little for him. You reached for one of the limp hands hanging to his side, keeping it firmly in your own.

“It’s alright, sunshine,” you muttered. “I know you didn’t mean it.” Those words caused him to meet your gaze. John opened his mouth to object, but didn’t say anything when he saw the compassion in your eyes. 

He knew you were lying. 

You knew he had told the truth.

The door closed. You both turned to see what happened. Only Freddie remained in the flat with you. He had his arms crossed and a sly look scrawled across his face.

“I managed to get TweedleDee and TweedleDum out to bring the car around.” He sighed. “They even argued about whose car we were using.”

John looked horrified.

“Don’t worry, Deaky, I didn’t hear a thing.”

Neither of you could tell if he was being sincere or not.

A lull filled the space. You weren’t sure what to do, or say.

“Who are TweedleDee and TweedleDum?”

“Love, haven’t you seen that Disney film?” You both shook your heads. Freddie grinned. 

“It’s a fantastic trip.”

* * *

The ride into town was long.

You resented being squished in the back between Roger and Deaky. Brian had won the argument over who would get to drive, and Freddie insisted on riding up front next to him, claiming it was his “birthright as the oldest”. You relented, knowing you wouldn’t be able to go up against him.

John mumbled to himself, “Still think we should’ve taken the train.” You mentally agreed with him, but sat in silence.

Periodically, Roger would ask you something about the hospital, reminding you that he once was a biology student, studying to be a practitioner of dentistry. You were happy to engage in conversation, enjoying the chance to talk about it with someone you didn’t work with. Brian was a brilliant man, and understood the concepts you mentioned, but sometimes you felt as though he thought too much when you spoke to him about medicine; he would often respond with a tidbit about physics.

Brian glanced in the rear view mirror to see the back seat, and saw Roger’s arm resting on his leg, his hand cradling his chin. You talked with excitement in your voice and eyes, causing Roger to hang onto every word you said. John was staring out the window, unresponsive. Brian was so distracted by the scene behind him, he forgot about the world in front of him. Freddie tapped him on the shoulder, making him snap out of it, and pointed to the road ahead, full of traffic. Brian slammed on the brakes, causing Beatrix to lurch and let out a concerning noise. Roger, not paying attention, hit his head on the back of Freddie’s seat.

“Ow!” He rubbed his forehead. “I thought you were supposed to be a good driver, May.”

“Still better than you, Taylor,” Brian huffed.

“Oh, stop it, you two.” Freddie sounded playful, but you all could tell he was growing tired of the bickering.

“So,” you spoke up, more cheerful than your company. “Where exactly are you bringing us, Fred?”

“Excellent question, Y/N! None of these simpletons even bothered to ask.” He glared into the mirror, pointedly at Roger, then to John. “There’s this lovely little shop where my friend Minnie works. She said she could get us good deals on the merchandise.”

“That’s great!”

No one else said a thing. Brian reached for the knob to turn up the radio, but Freddie slapped his hand away.

“I was also thinking we could go for lunch, but only if I see some spirits rise.”

“Eh, if they want to mope, maybe just you and I will go.” You patted Freddie’s shoulder.

John lifted his head from the window and sat up straight, the height difference between the two of you suddenly very prominent. “I think that sounds nice.” He hadn’t said much during the drive, except the occasional sassy comment made under his breath that only you were able to hear. You smiled at his change in demeanor.

* * *

There were velvet trousers in every hue. Satin shirts with zany patterns. Jewelry of varying designs. It was sort of what you imagined Freddie’s paradise to be like.

You dragged Brian by the hand to go through some tops you thought he’d be fond of. He was never hesitant about more feminine styles. He loved lacy things. You held up a black shirt with large sleeves up against your body, trying to get him to imagine what it would look like on a body. Brian had a moment of deja vu.

--October 25, 1961--

“Which one do you like better?” Brian asked you, holding up a flowy purple dress, followed by a longer blue one, then switching back and forth between them.

In your hands, you held a delicate white frock. The fabric glistened in the sunlight from the window behind you. You watched Brian twirl the garments around for your benefit, insisting it would help you “envision the silhouette” better. You giggled when he lifted the hanger of the purple one over his head, setting it around his neck.

“Well, I think that one suits you nicely.”

“Ya think so?” He craned his neck downward to get a better look at it from his angle. “Think it works with my womanly figure?” Brian shimmied for you, letting the dress swing around in front of his gangly frame. You put the white one back on its rack and gave him a cheer, accompanied by an enthusiastic round of applause. 

The other patrons of the shop glared at the two rowdy teenagers disrupting the quiet atmosphere. Neither of you cared, wrapped up in the fun you were having. Brian only stopped dancing when he noticed a young man, who appeared to be several years older than himself, smiling at him. He was with his girlfriend, at least Brian thought it was his girlfriend, who was sifting through a section of evening wear. She would hold up a glittering gown to see his reaction, and if he seemed to like it, she’d drape it over her forearm with the others he approved of. Everytime he said something kind, the young woman would gaze up at him with pure adoration. Brian hoped others thought you looked at him like that.

“I just don’t know if I could pull it off.”

Brian came out of his trance to focus on you. He hung the blue dress back where he found it. “What do you mean?”

You bit your cheek.

“It’s certainly beautiful, but I don’t think it would look as nice on me as is does on the hanger.” You lowered your eyes, feeling vulnerable. 

Being in a place full of gorgeous women with attire to match made you feel self-conscious. You thought that puberty hadn’t been kind to you, you felt like a stranger in your own skin. In fact, you only worked up the nerve to go in when Brian said he would try on dresses with you. 

For once, Brian felt like he wasn’t the frightened one.

“Oh, don’t be so fucking ridiculous.”

Your mouth was agape, you were shocked by the words that escaped his lips. He scrambled to find the words he meant to say, realizing that wasn’t a great start.

“A hanger’s only an object. Nothing can look beautiful on a hanger.” He shifted his weight into his right hip. “At least, not in comparison to the beauty it can reflect when it’s on someone.” He coughed, then lowered his voice. “On you.”

At this point, Brian knew he felt something for you. A little more than friendship. Or a lot more. He came to terms with the emotions some months ago, but he had hoped it would have subsided by now. 

A schoolboy crush on his best friend shouldn’t last longer than a few months, right?

Teary eyed, you reached up your arms to loop them around the nape of his neck. Brian ducked down a bit for you to get a better hold, letting you pull him closer to you.

“I love you, Bri,” you whispered.

He melted where he stood. Could it be?

“You’re the best friend I could ever imagine.”

Oh.

“God, what did I do to deserve you?”

The words rang through his ears.

“You came into my life,” Brian whispered back. “That’s all.”

--1973--

“And I think this would go nicely with that pair of velvets you own.” You could see that Brian was in a daze. “Well?”

He blinked slowly, bringing his drooping eyelids up halfway to look at you. “Hmm?”

“What do you think?”

He was brought back into the present.

“Oh, I think it’s great.” He wasn’t even sure what “it” was.

You beamed. “Good! Now, Roger’s trying some stuff on. You should go join him in the back.” You unloaded the items from your arms and transferred them to Brian. Then you pointed his shoulders in the right direction.

Brian marched to the fitting rooms, finding a half naked Roger flexing in a mirror. Brian stopped in his tracks, but Roger was unfazed. 

“Whaddya think?” He posed, showing off the obnoxious pants he was wearing, paired with nothing but a fringed vest.

Brian raised an eyebrow. “Did Fred pick that out for you?”

“No,” Roger continued staring at his reflection. “This is all me.”

“Ah. Makes sense.” Brian scoffed as he pushed past the blond and drew the curtain to the dressing area. Roger came in behind him, not caring that it was meant to be a personal space.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Well, for starters, you’re in my fitting room.” Brian frowned.

“Oh, don’t start that with me.” Roger pointed a finger at Brian. “You’ve been moody all day.”

Brian snorted at the remark. “I could say the same about you!”

Roger stared at his friend with dispassion. Then something dawned on him. “Brian?”

The guitarist fell silent.

“Did you and Y/N get in a fight or somethin’?”

“No. We didn’t fight.”

Roger had a thought, but dismissed it with laughter. Brian’s scowl hardened, making Roger feel required to say it aloud. “Sorry, mate, I was just thinkin’ you were too angry to have fucked.” Brian’s nose twitched. Roger stopped laughing. “Did you and Y/N fuck?” His voice was at a much lower pitch.

“No,” Brian growled through gritted teeth. “It’s not like that between us. You know that.”

Roger had a gleam in his eye. “But do you want it to be?” Brian’s expression softened, giving him all the confirmation he needed.

“Not exactly.” Brian confided, shifting uncomfortably in the small stall made for one person.

“Then what exactly?”

Brian’s heart was pounding. In twelve years, he had only told one person what he was about to tell Roger.

* * *

Roger stood silent for a moment, taking in what he just heard.

“Twelve years?”

Brian blushed, bashful from the level of vulnerability he had reached with his bandmate.

“Twelve bloody years? Why haven’t you ever made a move?”

“I never seemed right. We were too young. Then she was with somebody. Then she moved away for five years. When would I have done anything?”

Roger was frustrated by his friend’s stupidity. “You’ve wasted a monumental about of time failing to do anything.”

Brian sighed. “I’ve never had the courage. And then I find out you’ve kissed her. Doesn’t she mean something to you, too?” He didn’t even want to think about John.

“Of course Y/N does. She means a great deal to me, but not like that. It was one moment. You’ve had a lifetime of moments.” Roger paused. “You love her, yeah?”

“Irretrievably.”

“Then do something about it.”

[voicesfromthelight]

A Follow-up on The Attunement: A Warning on El Paso, And What It Taught Me About The Importance of Building Symbolic Vocabularies

Today’s post will be a follow-up on events that have transpired in the last 48 hours, since I received my energetic attunement from my guides. The last two days have been interesting, exhilarating, and intense. I’ve felt a very clear shift in my ability to receive information from Spirit, and the events I’ve experienced have helped me figure out some useful things about how this energy works. They have also emphasized to me the importance of working with your guides to both fine-tune and expand communicative vocabularies.

As a quick recap, in case readers don’t feel inclined to revisit the previous post: Two days ago, I woke up to the awareness that I had been a sent a clairvoyant image, for which I was also given claircognizant instructions on how to find it. The instructions quickly led me to the correct photograph of unrest in Hong Kong. When I went to channel later in the day, my guides confirmed that the image had been transmitted to me with the intention of bolstering my latent clairvoyant ability. After obtaining my consent, my guides then gifted me with a powerful energy attunement that they said would help me develop my clair-senses, quicken the manifestation of my goals, bring through new teachings, and also aid me in energy healing through allowing me to work together with a new healer spirit guide. This energy could be passed on to other people simply through intention and mutual agreement. The experience of the attunement was electrifying, and I was able to pass the energy on to three people by the end of the day, reactivating it at will. All of them reacted palpably and positively. The most important piece of advice I received was to be very intentional about where I directed the energy, and to take even more care than before to avoid manifesting my fears through worry.

Having sent this energy attunement to three people, now, here is what I have figured out, so far:

1. This energy will adapt itself to the needs of the individual receiving it. Salvador’s instruction to be intentional in how it is directed is aimed not only at me, but at the recipients. They will gain the most benefit from the energy of the attunement when they clearly define what they wish to use it for, before receiving it.

2. It seems that when the energy is passed on, the attunement may work in a way similar to a strong, one-off energy healing, geared towards the recipient’s needs. I do not yet know if the attunement can be passed on by people who receive it from me. I suspect that in many cases, it can, depending on the person, their proclivities, level of psychic development, and intentions.

3. The energy is passed on simply by saying an opening prayer, re-activating the energy through intention, receiving consent for the attunement, and then visualizing the energy pouring into the recipient. I find myself using sound in the the form of whistling to help transmit  it. The process takes about two minutes, but the energy can reach the recipient with a slight delay.

4. For me, the attunement has definitely strengthened my clairvoyance, and for some reason, at the moment, this is currently manifesting as being tapped into events that make international news headlines. I seem to be open to new methods of communication, with new guides.

Aside from these considerations about the nature of the energy and how it works, the events that have happened since the attunement have given me much to process. One sequence of events in particular, while upsetting and linked to a great tragedy, has already taught me a valuable lesson about the importance of giving our guides a rich bank of knowledge, or vocabulary of symbols, to work with when transmitting information. 

This post will meander somewhat, but I think it’s important that I document and share everything that has transpired so far.

In the hours that followed the attunement, I enjoyed a great sense of well-being. I felt peaceful, grounded as well as energetically “whole,” as if any energetic cords of tension or lack linking me to other people had dissolved, and all my personal energy had been restored. Then, in the evening, something unexpected happened.

I had come back to my home in Brooklyn after a long day of running errands in Manhattan, and was planning on visiting a friend. Before leaving the house, I plopped down on the sofa in my living-room - which is where I usually do my channeling work - and dozed off for what must have only been fifteen minutes.

Within that short period of time, I quickly fell into a dream. I found myself looking at a room with dusty, red curtains covering the wall, which felt a little similar to some of the Argentine tango salons I frequent. As in those salons, people were gathered near the walls, but somehow, the situation felt more like a family wake than a tango milonga. Some of the 20 or so people, of all different ages, genders and sizes, I knew were of Mexican descent. They didn’t seem to see me back. I was merely an onlooker. Only one man standing in the crowd - a dapper Mexican gentleman with distinctive, almond-shaped eyes and a moustache, wearing a suit and tie - turned his gaze to me momentarily, and nodded slightly, a strange, solemn look on his face.

And then, I knew, they were dead souls.

I didn’t know why I had been brought into the presence of this particular group, as I didn’t seem to have any personal connection to them, but they seemed to belong together in some way. Perhaps they were merely there because, for whatever reason, I happened to be seeing into their particular frequency band of the spirit world? Then, as my inner eyes scanned the crowd, they finally alighted on a sweet, familiar face. It was my friend from film school, Louie.*

Wait a minute. What was Louie doing in the middle of a group of dead souls?

What did I know about Louie, lately? He was young, recently married, and had a lot of life to look forward to. He was also of Mexican descent. Yes, he had had a health scare about a year ago, but had recuperated well. He lived far away, in Texas, and I hadn’t seen him in ten years. To suddenly see him standing there, surrounded by dead people, I thought, could only mean one thing. He had either suddenly passed, was about to, or was in mortal danger. As my concern mounted, my awareness inched towards a panicked lucidity. Something was terribly wrong. As my consciousness came hurtling out of the vision, I tried several times to physically call out Louie’s name, but no sound came out.

With my eyes still closed, but awake, now, through my eyelids, I could see and feel something that felt like a dense, red ball of energy, flashing with heat near my face, like a warning sign. It was as if it was broadcasting some kind of code containing all the emotional and intellectual information that was being transmitted to me in the dream. Every time it flashed, I felt the emotional response of terror flaring up. However, I knew the energy itself was not malicious. It was merely a semi-sentient package of information from Spirit - perhaps a thought form - very vigorously doing its job. It flashed a few times, and then, it was gone.

I opened my eyes, sat up, and tried to process what I had just experienced. It was a hot night. My fan was off. I sometimes have nightmares when I’m too hot. The inability to call out, and the feeling of the flashing ball of energy, surely were symptoms of sleep paralysis? On the other hand, after the morning’s very powerful developments, could my intuition be so off that I would dupe myself into thinking I had received a mediumistic communication of this caliber? That didn’t sit right, either.

I opened up my phone and looked up Louie’s Facebook page, half dreading to see a sudden outpouring of condolences on his wall. There were none.

Louie was safe and sound, in El Paso.

Over a late dinner, I hashed over everything that had happened with my friends, still not quite knowing what to think. Why had I seen Louie like that, when he was OK? Why couldn’t I shake the feeling that this was not just a vivid nightmare with some special effects added in for good measure, but a communication from Spirit?

The following morning, as I was going over the morning’s news headlines, I was reminded of the image I had been sent clairvoyantly as a prelude to my attunement. Despite its actually having been set in Hong Kong, when I had received it, I had mistakenly thought the scene was taking place in an Asian area of Russia. Now, instead of the Hong Kong protests, it was protests in Russia, in which hundreds of people had been arrested, that were making headlines. I wondered if the claircognizant information had been deliberately split to be relevant to both events: Russia and Asia? (This is how my guides’ verbally coded shorthand sometimes condenses information.) The question of how to process geographical information in Spirit communication was about to become more pressing.

I took the train into Manhattan with the intention of going to write in my customary café. It is worth mentioning that on the way there, another strange synchronicity happened, which I’m sure was orchestrated by my guides. I took a slightly different route than usual, and was serendipitously all but pulled off the street into an event where 25 shamanistic healers were conducting a group sound healing ceremony. I hadn’t been to a gathering like this for years, and the timing so soon after my attunement seemed perfect. (I had, in fact, been planning on attending events organized by the group behind it for over a year, but simply hadn’t gotten my act together.)

As I exited the event, I checked my phone. And that’s when I saw the headline: A mass shooting was taking place in El Paso, Texas. Where Louie lived. In fact, Louie was the only person I knew who lived there, and the first thing I would think of anytime anyone mentioned the city. Two possible suspects were still on the loose. The situation was still unfolding.

I quickly checked to see if Louie had posted anything online to let everyone know he was OK. Yes. He had posted a warning for people to stay away from the area of the shooting. Thank God, he was probably fine, and it was the proximity of the shooting that had triggered the warning I had received. I quickly messaged him, stumbling a bit over my wording, telling him to please stay safe. Then, I hoped for the best.

By the end of massacre, 20 people were dead, and at least 20 more, injured. I was haunted by the feeling of terror I had felt the night before, but Louie and his loved ones were safe. And that’s when I understood what had happened in the dream, and why.

The dream I had on my sofa was an authentic mediumistic communication. However, the reason I had seen Louie in the middle of the group of souls who were about to pass so tragically was not that he was to be among them, but because my strongest association with the city of El Paso, was Louie. Simply put, because of how my mind was wired to decode information, “Louie” was shorthand for “El Paso.”

This is where the lesson in this experience can be found.

It’s important to remember that Spirit will use the existing knowledge within the mind of the medium to give concrete form to intangible energy - which is why different mediums receive information in different ways. This is also why competent instructors of mediumship will encourage students to build up their knowledge of different subjects - and a bank of symbols for different concepts. If you memorize an entire book of baby names, Spirit won’t have to work as hard to get you to hear names in a mediumistic context. If you familiarize yourself with symbols associated with different faiths, you’ll know what a turban with a miniature dagger in it symbolizes, and what it does not. If you read up on the history of fashion, you might have an easier time pin-pointing the era and culture a spirit is hailing from.

…And if you familiarize yourself really thoroughly with geography and landmarks, well, Spirit won’t need to use your still-living buddy as a symbol for a city where a massacre is about to happen, scaring the crap out of you.

…And you will no longer confuse Moscow and Hong Kong.

Geeze!

This is an excellent takeaway.

I’ve heard stories of developing mediums who get so upset about receiving communications on tragedies, that they just say “Nope!” and shut down, sometimes for years. This experience was emotionally challenging, but didn’t make me want to reject the communication. So, last night, I sat down, and said to my guides: “Thank you for sending me this information. I do want to continue to receive truthful communication even when it’s unpleasant. But let’s make a deal. I’ll read up on landmarks, geography, and a whole bunch of other stuff, and you will use that new symbolic vocabulary to fine-tune your transmissions, so this kind of confusion doesn’t happen again, OK? Please make sure I don’t get scared that my friend is in mortal danger, unless it’s true and there is something I can do to help, or you at least know that hearing about it will soften the emotional blow.”

Now, it’s up to me to hold up my end of the deal. I am confident that they will hold up theirs.

What areas of knowledge do you think might help you with your Spirit communications? Do you have areas of expertise on which you find you will more readily receive specific information? What symbol systems work best with your communications? Think about how you can expand and develop them!

_________________________________________________

*Name changed to protect privacy.